Santa Baby
by Staccato Rhythm
Summary: Brittany beams at her over Quinn's head. Santana smiles back bashfully, looking up at Sam when he bumps their shoulders together. Possible Spoilers for 3x08.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee**

A/N: Promo pics are a handy little tool for writers. This one-shot is pure speculation but _may_ contain _spoilers_. I also want to thank my wonderful, _wonderful _Beta, StarsAreAMetaphor for helping me with this even though she had to battle through snow, family crises', and life in general. She's really something else!

Enjoy.

* * *

><p><em>Santana, baby<em>

_Slip a sable under the tree for me_

_I've been an awful good girl_

_Santana, baby_

_And hurry down the chimney tonight_

It's a cold December morning and Santana is helping her Mama in the kitchen (after telling her parents about the … you know, being a lesbian thing, there has been a fundamental shift in their family routine. Feeling guilty that their daughter had been so terrified of being kicked out for liking girls, her parents have decided their needed to be a lot more communication and time spent together) So, though family weekends are new and intrusive on the time Santana usually spends with Brittany, they're not all that bad. She and her Mama like _do stuff_ together now. And right now they're baking cookies and listening to the traffic report on the radio, clucking their tongues regretfully when they hear news of a car crash due to black ice.

Conversations flow smoothly from school, work, and to the upcoming festivities. Christmas this year will be spent at home "Just the four of us!" Santana's Papa had grinned, shaking his head at his daughter's inquiry of whether they were going to entertain anymore of his work colleagues. They used to, even when Santana was small – so small she couldn't reach the bathroom counter to brush her teeth. She remembers always feeling bitter whenever her Papa's educated friends came 'round, spraying big words Santana couldn't understand and petting her hair like she was some flea-ridden cat (Not the awesome kind like Lord Tubbs but the ugly, screech-at-all-hours, demented, demon kind)

This year she gets her Mama and Papa all to herself. Yeah, maybe she's a little too old to be excited about opening Christmas presents, or going to afternoon mass followed by that mouth-watering meal she'll help make for the first time in _forever_, but she's fine with it. Before now they used to pre-order everything and then throw it inside the oven before eating in front of the TV while Santana played with her phone. It was a really detached and aloof affair.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Her mother asks popping the cookie tray in the oven and batting Santana's greedy hand away from the spoon still smeared with cookie dough.

Santana chuckles and shrugs. Last year, or the year before even, she would've prepared a list as long as her arm. A list full of flashy things like 'new clothes, new laptop, new phone, new hair straightener, new hair extensions, new iPod…' A list full to the brim with expensive material things that, no matter how hard she hoped, never seemed to fill that hole in her chest. There's no hole there anymore, though. (It ceased to exist the moment her Papa opened his arms to embrace her after she'd whispered 'I'm gay') Now her list is decidedly smaller, if not non-existent.

"Whatever is cool," Santana replies. She opens the fridge, contemplative expression on her face, as she peers around cartons of milk before closing it again and turning just in time to catch her mother's wide eyed expression.

"What?"

As quickly as the look appears, it disappears again and her Mama recollects herself, clearing the countertops with a small secretive smile. Santana studies her for a moment before dismissing the interaction and helping with the washing up. Amongst the bubbles they giggle to Christmas songs and Santana learns with a little thrill that her Mama is actually pretty fucking awesome at singing.

"How come you never sang for me before?" she asks with some measurement of hurt in her voice. Because she knows for a fact that most parents sing to their children at least once in their lives.

"I tried when you were a baby," her Mama reveals, "But I don't think you liked it. You preferred it when I'd move around the room. You liked movement."

"Movement?" Santana echoes.

"Baile." Her Mama makes a few awkward shuffling motions, looking a little like Finn Hudson, rolling her eyes as her daughter laughs. "You liked it when I danced. I think the movement put you to sleep. The same thing happened when we put you in the car."

Something warm and beautiful unfurls in Santana's chest.

Dancing.

Her thoughts shift naturally to Brittany and her Mama must have really caught up on this mother-daughter connection everyone talks about because she totally reads her mind with one look. Her Mama says "Brittany?" with a quirked eyebrow and giggles at Santana's growing blush.

"Just wondering what to get her for Christmas," she deflects voice gruff.

There's a minute silence before her Mama is clearing her throat and looking at her awkwardly, obviously trying to ask her something.

"Is … um, is what you have with Brittany … que la quieres?"

Santana nods, not without a small thrill of fear and the shrieking thought "THEY SAID THEY WERE FINE WITH IT!"

"Ok, good." Her Mama nods to herself. Santana knows she's always liked Brittany and maybe her Mama wants to make sure this isn't some casual fling she'll discard like all the boys that came before her.

"So it's serious?"

Though it sounds like a rhetorical question Santana still feels the need to agree. "Yeah."

"So what about a ring?"

Santana's heartbeat _triples_ its normal pace and she gazes at her Mama open-mouthed and really truly surprised.

"Oh don't look at me like that, Santana," her Mama fires at her. "I saw how you looked at the girl during dinner last night. You should … how did Beyoncé put this? Put a ring on it?"

Ok, she's fucking transcended into the Twilight Zone right about now. She knows her parents are pretty lax about her and Brittany. Last night they'd urged Santana to invite her over for dinner and throughout the meal her Papa had almost choked from laughter at every amusing thing that had slipped out of Brittany's mouth, deliberate or not. Then she'd found her girlfriend and Mama pouring over leather bound albums, cooing and giggling suspiciously. "Aaaw, baby! You look so cute in the bath!"

"You'd … you'd be okay with that?" she asks finally, meek and forever uncertain of where she stands. After all she'd been so sure with her Abuela and … well. Let's just say she'd hoped for better.

Her Mama smiles, laying a soft hand on her daughter's cheek and the contact is so surprising Santana tears up a little. "I'm okay with that if you are."

She is so okay with that.

* * *

><p>Santana's Papa hands her half of her Christmas money early with a pat on her shoulder and a "Your mother said you'd be needing this for gifts." She's thankful her father's so whipped by his wife he doesn't feel the need to ask her any questions. Sometimes Santana wonders if Brittany will be like that too when they're older. And then she rolls her eyes because she knows she's the whipped one. If Brittany asked her to jump she'd automatically ask how high. If Brittany asked her for a star Santana would try her damn best to pluck the <em>moon<em> from the sky and gift-wrap it.

However, Brittany's too selfless to ask for the moon and Santana hasn't the faintest idea about who to contact to get in touch with NASA, so instead she'll settle for the next best thing; a symbol of love that her girlfriend can carry around everywhere.

A few hundred dollars richer and walking on air as she enters Zale's, Santana struts towards the counter and purses her lips like she's got a secret. The employee on duty salivates because she looks good and anyone who looks good and is inside a jewelry store obviously has cash to burn. It's got to be the first thing they teach you during training.

"Yeah, hi," Santana fires at the woman, smiling internally when she flinches, "I'm looking for a promise ring. Gold with a diamond and flower cut if you can manage. My budget is four hundred dollars."

Flustered the woman nods and scurries off to gather the appropriate rings together. Santana watches her go, nails tapping on the counter as she surveys the shop. There are a couple of guys with their girlfriends pouring over display cases but one guy in particular catches her attention. It's Finn and the poor idiot looks completely lost as he stands, hands fisted in his pocket, gazing at some jewelry behind a glass case.

When the woman comes back with the rings Santana tells her she'll be back in just a moment. Finn gawks when he looks up at the sound of heels clicking on the floor and sees her. Santana glances at the display case she'd seen him studying.

Necklaces.

"Frankenteen," she says by way of acknowledgement. He sort of mumbles back at her. "Christmas shopping for Rachel?"

He nods and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Yeah. Only I have no idea what to get her. I was thinking about a necklace or something. What do you think?"

She shakes her head. "Not a necklace buddy-boy. Remember what happened last time you gave her one?"

"Um?"

Santana sighs, wondering why in the name of all things holy she'd ever slept with this man child. "You broke up, plus it had your _name_ on it. Tacky central. Sends a bad message."

"She said she liked it," Finn defends weakly.

"Yes well this time you're going to get her a nice pair of earrings. It's classy, refined and screams clean slate."

"It does?"

Santana rolls her eyes at him and sighs, already losing interest in this conversation. She doesn't even know why she came over. Well, she does. Even though Finn had sort of almost ruined her life a few weeks ago by being his big oafish self, Santana is sceptical as to whether she'd be here today buying Brittany a ring with her parent's permission and money if he hadn't. She supposes she should be begrudgingly grateful even with his poor attempts at reconciliation. Girls Wanna Have Fun? _Really_?

"Buy her the earrings, Finn." And then she turns on her heels and walks back towards the counter she'd abandoned.

Half an hour later, she's got a small square box in her coat pocket and a smile she can't wipe off no matter how hard she tries. Everything seems heightened. The world bleeds with colour and kids are merry and free, smiling as they throw snowballs at each other and neighbors' houses. Santana has never been happier to be in this world. She shares a knowing look with her Mama as they pass each other on the stairs when she makes it home and her hand subconsciously curls around the ring, thanking her mother silently for the great idea.

Once inside her bedroom she places the box reverently on her bedside table and falls on her bed, breathing softly. She turns to crack it open and stares at it in silent awe.

It's gorgeous. It is exactly what she asked for and it'll look even more stunning on Brittany's finger.

She marvels at the sheer weight of this moment happening right here in the solemnity of her dark bedroom. A year ago right now Brittany had been parading around with Wheels, being with him, meeting his family and asking Santana Clause to make him walk. And a year ago Santana had been too scared to tell herself what she knew to be so true. She was head-over-heels in love with her best friend.

But now Artie's out of the picture and happy as a clam with his new ambition to be a big shot director. Now it's Santana who gets Brittany. Brittany's now with _her_, and having dinner with the Lopez family every other day and they even visited Santana Clause at the mall just three days ago with Britt's little sister. This year Santana _will_ shout from every rooftop that she is head-over-heels in love with her best friend.

And now she has a ring to prove it.

Her phone vibrates and without tearing her gaze away Santana fumbles a hand down her bra and retrieves it, pressing a button.

_From: BrittBritt_

_just got your xmas present its a goodun! XX love you_

Santana laughs. Speak of the devil …

_To: BrittBritt_

_Can't wait! I got yours too! XOXO Love you more_

She loves this. She loves texting Brittany and being able to type everything her heart dictates. In the past she would have carefully worded each sentence, weighed every emoticon heavily in her mind and erased every _I love you_ her heart had written. Now she can let herself go and adore Brittany even if they are miles apart.

_From: BrittBritt_

_you did? do I get a hint? XXXXX_

Santana pauses, tapping the phone against her chin in thought. Should she give her a hint? Give Brittany something to look forward to?

_To: BrittBritt_

_All I'll say is that it comes from the heart. And it's small but means a lot. XOXOXO _

The response is immediate.

_From: BrittBritt_

_i dont care about the presents underneath the xmas tree, i just want you for my own more than you could ever know, make my dreams come trueeeeeeee! all I want for xmas is YOU_

There are so many wonderful things about being in love. And getting a sickeningly sweet Christmas song stuck in your head because your girlfriend proceeds to call you and serenade you with it is way up there with mistletoe kisses. By the way, she's got that one planed for tomorrow. If she can just remember where she put that sprig of mistletoe …

* * *

><p>Brittany's over and they're kissing lazily on her bed, nuzzling after every soft smack of their lips and holding hands in the miniscule space between their bodies. Brittany sighs after several long moments of bliss and flickers her eyes open in time to catch dark mocha watching her intently.<p>

"Hi there pretty lady," Brittany whispers fondly, fingers trailing soft skin. Santana purrs under light touch and burrows close into her girlfriend's body.

"Hmm … Britt, I need to get something off my chest."

Concerned, Brittany curls more protectively around Santana, kissing her forehead gently to show support.

"I have to admit," She says sleepily, "That I did not hate Ireland's little Elvis number today in Glee club."

"It was pretty cool," Brittany replies. "I feel really sorry for him because I'm dancing around the house all excited and he isn't going to be around his family or loved ones and I …" she trails off, grip tightening around Santana who whines a little at the strength of the embrace but snuggles in closer anyway.

"Don't let him get you down, baby." Santana raises her head and steals a kiss, giggling against pink lips which curl up. "You," _kiss_ "And I," _Another kiss_ "Are spending our first Christmas together."

"We are," Brittany agrees with a soft look.

Santana closes her eyes and savours the moment, trailing her kisses to Brittany's jaw and then back up to her lips which part automatically. Tongues dancing for long languid moments, Santana lets her girlfriend's hands trail under her top and touch the warming skin of her back. In return she tangles her hand in golden hair and kisses a little harder, a little sweeter.

"What does our first Christmas together have anything to do with Rory?" Brittany gasps once their kisses have grown so consuming that they literally have to break for air.

"Nothing, I just wanted to say it out loud."

Santana wonders if perhaps this is the wrong thing to say (the needy thing to say) as Brittany stares at her. But all of a sudden she's on her back and Brittany is kissing her furiously, hands down her shorts and suddenly – oh! – inside her, pushing so deliciously as Santana grips at her neck and moans into her mouth.

With her release so close already Santana brings her lips to Brittany's ear so that the girl can hear exactly what she's doing to her. She feels Brittany shudder and kiss her neck desperately as she bucks into the hand Britt has buried in her pyjama shorts.

"Te quiero. Te quiero, Brittany. Tanto, mi amor. Tan cerca …"

"Santana …" Brittany whines. "Ugh. C'mon, baby."

She comes quietly and moans against Brittany's mouth as the latter proceeds to wrap around her like a large blanket, kissing her face repeatedly and murmuring words of devotion and love that make Santana sleepily smile.

"I have something to give you. Two secs." Brittany moves off the bed carefully with a parting kiss once they have regained their wits and fumbles in the pocket of her coat draped across the vanity before finding what she's looking for.

When Santana sits up, sated and buzzing pleasantly, she almost gasps at the box sitting precariously in her girlfriend's palm. Brittany sits on the bed and places the box between them, urging the other girl to open it with bright clear eyes.

Santana fumbles with the lid before she's pushing it open and looking at the oddest but most perfect ring she's ever seen. It looks like a flower; red petals and green centre and when Brittany whispers 'I made it for you' she loses all powers of speech.

"Put it on me?" she hiccups. Brittany grins at her and takes the ring from the box, slipping it on her left hand with a gushy look.

They kiss and it warms Santana all over.

"I couldn't wait for Christmas," her girlfriend admits. "I hope you're not mad that you won't get anything under the Christmas tree from me?"

God, she so isn't mad. How could she be when this gorgeous girl made her a ring and put it on her and made love to her and kissed her and is still kissing her? Instead Santana stretches for her bedside table and opens the first drawer, taking the box she'd hidden there for the past week and presenting it to a slack jawed dancer.

"I couldn't wait for Christmas either." Santana opens the lid for Brittany to see and delights in the gasp and watery grin she receives.

"Can I put it on you?"

"Yes." Brittany trembles violently and offers her left hand. Santana slips the ring on her ring finger after a little sob of affirmation from Brittany before kissing it and then kissing her girlfriend with so much love she feels like she's going to combust.

"Put my ring on your right hand," Brittany says a little while later as they lay curled up around each other.

"Why?"

"I want to get you a proper ring," the blonde murmurs, "A proper ring like the one you got me."

Santana looks into baby blues and shakes her head. "Your ring is a proper ring, Britt-Britt. You _made_ it. Don't you get how special that is to me?"

"I want to get you a diamond ring," Brittany continues, "And I want you to always have it on or else other people are going to hit on you and that's not cool."

Santana touches the gorgeous homemade ring sadly, bringing it up so that Brittany can see it too. "But what about this one?"

"I'd like you to keep it. But I want you to have a promise ring too. Because you can't make a promise on the ring I got you." Brittany seems so damn certain that Santana just nods and kisses her.

"What's the promise?"

Brittany smiles, "That one day we ditch the rings for wedding bands."

Yeah. They don't get much sleep that night.

* * *

><p>As they're decorating the choir room the following day, Berry notices the diamond adorning Brittany's finger and warm pride seeps into Santana's chest as Brittany readily shows it off. The girls flock instantaneously, oohing and awing, and Santana sighs in contentment at the pure joy on Brittany's face as even the guys come around for a peek.<p>

"Mike! Come here," Tina orders.

"I see it," he says. "It's nice."

"You could learn a thing or two about romance from Santana," his girlfriend sniffs.

Brittany beams at her over Quinn's head. Santana smiles back bashfully, looking up at Sam when he bumps their shoulders together. They're getting on well now that Santana isn't pretending to like him to escape her hurt feelings. Even with his strange obsession with getting Aretha back he's probably the only boy here that she can stand to be around without wanting to light herself on fire (save for Mike because he's awesome and Brittany's favourite dance partner)

"Nice ring, Santana," he waggles his eyebrows, "Bet Brittany was _really_ thankful."

She hits him on the shoulder, mortified, but something tells her he doesn't even feel it as he chuckles. "Watch your Trouthy Mouth," she hisses. "That's my President girlfriend you're talking about. She could have you expelled."

Sam laughs, totally unperturbed, and skips past her to envelop the President in a bear hug. Brittany squeals, delighted at the affection, and Santana can only roll her eyes. Quinn sidles beside her to fill the space that Sam has vacated and they nod at each other.

"It's a gorgeous ring, Santana."

"Thanks."

"And the ring you're wearing is very Brittany."

"I know."

Santana watches Brittany talk animatedly with Kurt who grasps her left hand and is holding it up to the light to inspect the ring more clearly. Not too far away Sam, Artie and Blaine are chatting at the piano and Mercedes is pulling things out of a box of decorations and asking people to help put the ornaments on the tree.

"Well, I guess it's time to get decorating," Quinn says before falling in line behind Rachel for some tinsel.

"You ready to decorate, Sweetheart?" Santana asks as Brittany comes up to her, all smiles.

"Totally!" But something must catch her eye because she pulls Santana to the far wall without a word and points upwards.

A sprig of mistletoe …

"You have to kiss me, Santana. It's tradition."

Santana licks her lips, understanding the flush in Brittany's cheeks and the lovesick grin on her face because she's sure she's mirroring it right back. Her heart skips a beat at the implications of this. This will be their first kiss in public, their first kiss in front of their friends and away from closed doors and the safety of their bedrooms. The magnitude of this moment is not lost on either of them. Her eyes drift to the ring on her finger and then to the diamond shinning on Brittany's and the sight gives her courage and purpose.

"You ready?" Santana whispers.

"I'll close my eyes," Brittany murmurs, and Santana leans forward eyes fluttering closed.

Their lips touch and Santana doesn't know if it's because she's finally kissing Brittany in front of people or because it's in school, but it's the sweetest most wonderful kiss they've ever shared. Their lips part and connect and Santana delights in the hand that materialises at the small of her back which pulls her closer to Brittany's body. She kisses Brittany hard and slow and long to make up for all the times she should have kissed her in this choir room but never did. Brittany responds willingly and they don't pay mind to the knowing grins from their friends wrapping the Christmas tree up in tinsel and garlands.

"Merry Christmas, Santana," Brittany mumbles into her neck.

"Merry Christmas, Britt-Britt."

_Santana, baby_

_Forgot to mention one little thing_

_A ring_

_I don't need a phone_

_Santana, baby_

_And hurry down the chimney tonight_


End file.
